


Stand My Ground

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Category: Underfell - Fandom, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Anger, Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Love, Canon Temporary Character Death, Canonical Character Death, Duty, Edge is determined, Emotional Baggage, Existential Angst, Honor, Inescapable - Freeform, Introspection, Papyrus (Undertale) Remembers Resets, Song: Stand My Ground (Within Temptation), Songfic, Time Loop, Undertale Genocide Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:29:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29032458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: The Great and Terrible Papyrus knows all too well the fate that awaits him, but he will never turn away from it. Cowardice just isn't within him, nor is surrender.
Relationships: Papyrus & Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 74





	Stand My Ground

_I can see_

_When you stay low_

_Nothing happens_

_Does it feel right?_

The Great and Terrible Papyrus knew all too well the fate that awaited him. The second time he charged to the edge of town to confront the human, his motivation was nothing but seething rage. To be publicly humiliated, beheaded by a sneering, insolent human child? Unacceptable. _Unthinkable_. It was an end that he couldn’t abide in good conscience.

_Late at night_

_Things I thought I'd put behind me_

_Haunt my mind_

When the keen edge of his anger became blunt, worn down by repetition, he challenged them to uphold his honor. Reputation and infamy were everything in this world. The Great and Terrible Papyrus would be remembered better for dying in the glory of battle than fleeing with the cowardly masses.

When he eventually came to the realization that very few would be left to hold him in their memory anyway (and none of them would look back fondly) it became a matter of simple duty. No matter the odds, a royal guardsman was never meant to back down from a fight.

A wise and discerning royal guardsman knew when the odds weren’t—and would _never_ be in his favor.

_I just know there's no escape now_

_Once it sets its eyes on you_

_But I won't run_

_Have to stare it in the eyes_

It was when Papyrus crumbled for the thirteenth time, straining against his own weakness, choking on his own dust, that he knew. He knew and still he met their eyes, teeth bared, goading them on with curses until their foot inevitably shattered his skull into a thousand pieces.

He knew and still he did not accept it.

_Stand my ground_

_I won't give in_

He tried a great many things. He rallied reinforcements to stand and fight at his side. He killed half the town himself in preparation, hasty to gather LOVE stronger than the human’s. He stood ready at the locked door, hoping to destroy them as soon as they set foot in the woods.

None of it mattered. His reinforcements were slaughtered or deserted him to his death. His LOVE never matched that which the human had gathered in the Ruins, and he could never break open the door himself to prevent it.

More than once he tried to warn the townsfolk before the human’s arrival. Given his manic, notorious desire to capture one, he was derided. “Papyrus is letting his position go to his head. He deludes himself. He cries wolf. Papyrus wants to watch us descend into terror as an amusement. He thinks he’s so influential that we’ll believe anything he says. Papyrus is fearmongering. We won’t be his fools.”

_No more denying_

_I’ve gotta face it_

It was the twenty-seventh reset that he awoke with a crushing, now-familiar headache and cold, slimy tendrils of unease curled around his soul. It was the first time his confidence truly wavered.

Death and destruction were inevitable. Papyrus could _never_ _win_.

What was he supposed to do with that knowledge? Accept it? Continue to draw a line in the snow, well aware that it would not hold? _Surrender?_

He could never win. He would never run. It wasn’t within him.

Where fire, fury, honor and duty buckled and gave way, what then could he stand for?

_Won't close my eyes and hide the truth inside_

Claws brushing his neck, acutely aware of the thin, deadly scar left over in the periosteum, Papyrus sat in silence. What he was waiting for, he wasn’t sure. Every time he found himself back here, he expected the world to feel as if it already stood on the edge of a knife. He would expect the dread to loom far beyond the confines of his own room but it didn’t. Pale light streamed through the window, as was its way. On the other side of the wall, Sans was snoring.

Sans had always believed him, those times that he sounded the alarm…not that his support held much weight. No matter the orders Papyrus gave him, his brother always seemed to disappear before the end, offering no help. Wherever he went or what his fate was every time, Papyrus didn’t know. Perhaps his only interest was “saving his own skin.” Too lazy to bother taking heed of Papyrus’ eleventh hour—or, more likely, he was dust already and Papyrus had never witnessed the human’s kill.

_If I don't make it, someone else will_

_Stand my ground_

Though he would never admit it, the Great and Terrible Papyrus felt his throat tighten.

Did Sans ever survive to learn what happened to him? Did he ever care enough to return for his dust?

If all other motivations were stripped down to barebones, Papyrus would stand his ground to prove that at least _one_ of Snowdin’s skeleton brothers gave everything he had, and always would, to the bitter end. _Someone_ had to be a proper role model. If he wanted something done right, he had to do it himself.

_All I know for sure is that I’m trying_

Perhaps Sans would be the one to hold the memory of him close, if he did last long enough.

For Sans, then, in the hopes that he would take Papyrus’ example to heart and put some true effort into whatever life he had left.

Papyrus scoffed softly. That was little more than pathetic, wishful thinking, but it was what he needed to rise from his bed and slip into the funerary armor that would never protect him.

_I will always stand my ground_

For Sans.


End file.
